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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28270953">The Last Christmas</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llereurol/pseuds/Llereurol'>Llereurol</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A bit of light angst, Banter, Book References, Christmas, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Mutual Pining, aziraphale loves a mince pie, gratuitous use of christmas stuff, only a bit, what really happened around the birth of baby jesus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:48:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,722</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28270953</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llereurol/pseuds/Llereurol</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A short Christmas story that takes place pre apocalypse.  Crowley and Aziraphale meet every Christmas to discuss Warlock, but this year their annual tradition leads to a quest for Christmas treats and a rather unfortunate incident...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Last Christmas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Yeah I know Christmas is almost over, I have been busy with my actual boring job (then fell ill). But, if any year warranted a slightly longer Christmas it's this year! This does take place as a bit of a prequal to my other ongoing fic "Savour Each Moment". No need to have read it though, this is just Christmas fun :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>December 24<sup>th</sup>. 2018.</p><p> </p><p><em>Oh, my love</em> <em><br/>We've had our share of tears<br/>Oh, my friends<br/>We've had our hopes and fears<br/>Oh, my friends<br/>It's been a long hard year<br/>But now it's Christmas<br/>Yes, it's Christmas<br/>Thank God it's Christmas</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>Crowley hummed along to the Bentley’s choice of Christmas song, (Queen of course) as he pulled up next to the bookshop. Ignoring the fact that he should not be parking in this particular location as it was Christmas Eve, he swung his black cashmere scarf over his shoulder and got out of the car.</p><p>He and Aziraphale had been meeting up around this time for the past five years to compare notes on how the Antichrist Warlock was doing from each of their point of view. Crowley had been trying not to think about how this would be the last time they would have one of these meetings, having always enjoyed them. He had of course, been on this earth for countless Christmases, Winter Solstices and Pagan festivals, but he had never before had a long string of the festive seasons that involved consistently seeing the angel. It had been nice not spending them alone.</p><p>
  
</p><p><em>It really did have to come to an impending apocalypse to ensure some good Christmases didn’t it? </em>The demon thought, and grimaced bitterly.</p><p>
  <em>Not going to stop me enjoying the last one though.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Crowley gave a small sigh, then entered the bookshop with his usual flourish.</p><p>“Angel? Are you here?” Crowley called as he began to take off his matching black cashmere gloves.</p><p>“Just one moment!”</p><p>The reply came from the backroom and it sounded a little harassed.</p><p>“You alright?” Crowley asked as he advanced into the bookshop then immediately stopped dead in his tracks and tensed up.</p><p>“Aziraphale… tell me you haven’t forgotten that I can’t listen to carols, <em>again</em>?!” he hissed.</p><p>That was one of the issues Crowley experienced each Christmas as a demon. He did not exactly start burning or writhing at the sound of the Christian verses, but it was not exactly a comfortable experience for him. It was kind of like hearing nails on a chalkboard. The sound went right through him. The only good thing about this was that demons tended to stay in Hell around this time, which meant Crowley could relax a bit, without worrying about Hastur or Ligur popping into his television during a screening of The Grinch. However, he did get a slightly higher workload as he was the only demon who could handle the Christmas cheer, but as long has he caused the occasional drunken brawl or encouraged a couple of fist fights at a Black Friday sale, Hell seemed happy enough.</p><p>A frantic scuffle came from the back room, and with a scratch the record stopped playing abruptly.  </p><p>“I do beg your pardon! I hadn’t realised what the time was! Are you ok?”</p><p>Crowley had scrunched up his eyes in his agitation and as he gingerly opened them again he took in the sight before him and immediately burst into fits of laughter.</p><p>Aziraphale had come out of the backroom to check on Crowley and was dressed in a traditional Father Christmas outfit, red bobble hat and all. His fake beard came down to his brass buckled belt and his reading glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose, which was beginning to wrinkle with irritation.</p><p>“Well, really,” Aziraphale scolded as Crowley started to roll his head back in his mirth. “It’s not <strong><em>that </em></strong>amusing.”</p><p>“Oh, but it is!” Crowley responded taking his glasses off to wipe the tears from his eyes. “Why the heaven are you dressed as jolly St Nick?”</p><p>“If you must know, the man who is usually Father Christmas in the bookshop next door had fallen ill suddenly and a replacement was required, so I felt it my duty to step in.”</p><p>“Why did they need a Father Christmas?”</p><p>“Oh, they have a sort of ‘Santa’s Grotto’ in the children’s section each year, and I must say, when did children become so demanding? The sort of things they were asking for, and the way in which they were asking! I certainly had to bite my tongue on more than one occasion.”</p><p>“Did… did they have to sit on your lap?”</p><p> “As a matter of fact they did. Oh Crowley, will you desist!”</p><p>Crowley by now was leaning against a nearby bookcase still guffawing. </p><p>“Shall I put the carols back on? How about a bit of ‘Oh <strong><em>Holy</em></strong> Night’? Or ‘All Come All Ye <strong><em>Faithful</em></strong>’?”</p><p>“Ok, ok! I’ll stop!”</p><p>Crowley straightened up and continued taking off his outside attire, deliberately avoiding eye contact with Aziraphale so as not to start laughing again.</p><p>“Right, well, now that you’ve quite finished, I better go and get changed before you hurt yourself.”</p><p>As Aziraphale headed towards his spiral staircase, a jingling noise sounded with every step the angel took.</p><p>“What’s that?” Crowley asked before he could stop himself.</p><p>“Nothing,” Aziraphale answered promptly. “Do help yourself to a mince pie. They’re on the table in the back room.”</p><p>Aziraphale ascended his stairs quickly in order to get out of this embarrassing situation. However, his haste only made the jingling more prominent, and Crowley had to bite his lip to stop himself from commenting. Once he heard the door to Aziraphale’s bedroom close, he hung up his scarf and gloves and went into the back room.</p><p>Aziraphale had sparsely decorated for Christmas. The gramophone was wrapped in tinsel and there was a small plastic Christmas tree next to his computer. Crowley knelt down next to a large stack of vinyl and selected some different music to play. He may not be able to listen to the lyrics of the carols but the melody was all right.</p><p>As the instrumental version of “God Rest ye Merry Gentlemen” began to play softly, Crowley turned to the small round table they would be sitting at and gave the plate of mince pies in the middle a look of disdain.   </p><p>“Why do you do this every year?” Crowley suddenly called up the stairs.</p><p>“Do what?” Aziraphale shouted back.</p><p>“Offer me a mince pie?”</p><p>“Because it’s what one does at Christmas.”</p><p>“But I don’t like them!”</p><p>“Well, you may have changed your mind.”</p><p>“Every year we have this exact same conversation. Stop--”</p><p>“--putting out mince pies,” Aziraphale said along with Crowley.</p><p>“See! You even know what I was about to say.”</p><p>“It’s tradition.”</p><p>“But you know I won’t eat them.”</p><p>“No. This argument is the tradition.”</p><p>By now, Aziraphale had reached the bottom of his stairs looking exactly like his usual self again.</p><p>“And what is this time of year without traditions?”</p><p>The angel smiled warmly at the demon, who could only sigh in response. It was then that Aziraphale noticed what was playing on his gramophone and raised his eyebrows at Crowley.</p><p>“It’s a compromise,” Crowley answered shrugging.</p><p>Aziraphale’s smile grew wider.</p><p>“How about a glass of mulled wine instead?”</p><p>“That I will happily have.”</p><p>So after pouring a generous amount into two glasses, both angel and demon sat at the table and sipped their drinks.</p><p>“Mmh. So how long have you had that Santa suit anyway?” Crowley asked, putting his drink onto the table.</p><p>“I can’t recall. Shall we get started?”</p><p>“Got somewhere to be?”</p><p>“Yes actually.”</p><p>“Where?”</p><p>“Well if you must know, I was planning on buying some Christmas puddings.”</p><p>“Puddings? As in more than one?”</p><p>“I found this lovely shop about ten years ago while I was visiting Greenwich Christmas market that does such scrumptious ones. I have purchased them every year since.”</p><p>“Another tradition.”</p><p>“Exactly.” </p><p>“Well, we better crack on then.”</p><p>Both produced their notebooks containing their notes and flicked to the relevant pages.</p><p>“Right, shall I start?” Aziraphale asked, very business-like as he put his glasses back on.  </p><p>“Go ahead. Start with the nice list and then I’ll cover the naughty list.”</p><p>Aziraphale glanced at Crowley over the top of his glasses with an irritated expression, but decided to ignore the demon and after clearing his throat, began.</p><p>“Well, as you know, I’ve been continuing with my role as Warlock’s tutor.”</p><p>Three years ago, Aziraphale had resigned as Brother Francis the gardener, and was now Mr Cortese, Warlock’s personal tutor. His new disguise consisted of a large pair of square glasses, a tartan shirt which stuck out of the top of a knitted jumper and the piece de resistance, a rather large hook moustache which Aziraphale liked to twiddle whenever he was pondering a question. Crowley had often wondered if he would have to resign from his role as nanny, however that did not seem to be happening any time soon. The richer you are, the longer it seemed you had your nanny. There were some politicians in Westminster that still as grown men kept their nanny. It did explain a lot.</p><p>“So, I have been able to match you for one on one time with the lad, and while his mathematics could really do with some work, I have noticed that he has quite the talent as an artist. So, we discussed the idea of him making his own Christmas cards, which, after a little grumbling of the amount of time that would take, he went on to do, with great success. He enjoyed it, and many of his peers and members of family were delighted upon receiving them. He even made some for the members of staff. Did you receive one?”</p><p>“I did as a matter of fact.”</p><p>Crowley pulled the card from his pocket and passed it over to Aziraphale who blinked in surprise. Drawn upon the card was a Rottweiler, baring its teeth aggressively, wearing a father Christmas hat, framed in a square of multi coloured Christmas lights.</p><p>“I should explain. Downstairs thought it a bad idea, you know ‘bad’ as in ‘good’, for Warlock to be comfortable around dogs. You know, since… actually, it doesn’t matter why.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I don’t need to mention the Hell Hound just yet. Let’s not spoil Christmas.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Because people who usually own Rottweilers are thought of to be menacing and violent?” Aziraphale muttered darkly, not taking his eyes off the card in his hand.</p><p>“Bit of a stereotypical view there angel.”</p><p>“Hence why I said <em>usually</em>.”</p><p>“Anyway, downstairs hold a similar view as you you’ll be glad to know--”</p><p>“I am not!”</p><p>“But if I’m being completely honest, I got the idea from a film.”</p><p>“Which film?”</p><p>“Come on! A nanny with a nasty vicious dog protecting the antichrist?”</p><p>“Oh, I see. That film. Are many of your ideas based upon cinematic “masterpieces” such as that?”</p><p>“No need to be snob. It is a good film. Anyway!” Crowley continued, before Aziraphale could interrupt him again.  “About two years ago I took Warlock to a nearby park and brought the dog with me. They got on like a house on fire which downstairs were delighted about… except what I didn’t tell them was that that particular dog was the sweetest pup I’ve ever come across. So wasn’t surprising really.”</p><p>“Then why is the dog drawn in such a way on this card?”</p><p>“Well, I think it’s supposed to represent me. Well, Nanny Ashtoreth’s personality anyway.”</p><p>“Now you come to mention it. The likeness is uncanny.”</p><p>Aziraphale looked up from the card with a playful twinkle in his eye, while Crowley glared at him.</p><p>“If you’re going to be like that, can I have my card back please?”</p><p>Aziraphale gave a small chuckle before passing it back to the demon.   </p><p>“Did you get a card?”</p><p>There was a beat as the angel pondered this question.</p><p>“Actually, now I come to think of it… no,” Aziraphale replied rather sadly.</p><p>“Well, maybe you’ll get one in the new year?”</p><p>“I’m not going back in the new year. His parents are trying to induct the boy into that school aren’t they?”</p><p>“Yeah, I’m not sure he’ll be staying there after what happened with the Christmas play.”</p><p>“Oh my. What happened?”   </p><p>Crowley grinned wickedly and relayed the story to Aziraphale gleefully.</p><p>For some time now, Warlock’s mother had been feeling that while Warlock was learning a great deal from Mr Cortese, she was worried that Warlock was not getting enough social interaction with other children. So, she and her husband decided for Warlock to attend the local private school and since it was the season, the school were putting on The Nativity and Warlock was given the part of none other than the Archangel Gabriel. However, as great as an artist that Warlock was turning out to be, he was struggling to remember the speech he was supposed to give to the shepherds. It did not help that the director of the play, Miss Harrison, was rather strict and impatient with Warlock and as she did not care about “who your father is,” she was determined to not give him any special treatment.</p><p>So, skulking in the shadows at the back of the school hall, Crowley watched the sub-par performances from the school children, wishing that Aziraphale had been with him so he could at least have someone to share his amusing criticisms with. Then it came to Warlock’s big moment. After starting well, he froze, completely forgetting what he was supposed to say next. Crowley could see his eyes darting frantically over to Miss Harrison sitting in the pit, who was sighing so loudly that even Crowley could hear her from as far away as he was, even without the use of his demonic powers. It was then that Warlock snapped, and instead of continuing with the speech as best as he could, instead began to sing a special arrangement of “While Shepherd’s Watched”, with a few slight alterations to the original lyrics.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong> <em>“While shepherd’s washed their socks by night,</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>All seated on the bank."</em></strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Crowley revelled in the wave of shock that emanated from parents and teachers alike.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong><em>"The angel of the Lord came down,</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>And taught them how to-”</em> </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>It was at that moment the curtains were hastily pulled across, but not before Warlock quickly shouted:</p><p>“Praise Satan!”</p><p>Needless to say, many parents began muttering loudly about “Americans,” while Mrs Dowling placed her head in her hands in shame and Mr Dowling quickly got up and escorted her out of the hall, his face as hard as stone. Crowley left not long after that, cackling as he went.</p><p>“So, I really don’t think he’ll be going back to that school, so your job’s safe angel.”</p><p>Crowley laughed some more after telling his story, but Aziraphale didn’t join in. He just frowned.</p><p>“What?” Crowley asked bemused. “You didn’t like the song? He must have learned it from his peers. American’s don’t usually say wan-”</p><p>“No it’s not that,” Aziraphale interrupted hastily before the demon could finish that sentence. “Does it not worry you that he… praised… Lucifer like that? Is that not a sign that he’s starting to become the Antichrist?”</p><p>Crowley thought for a moment.</p><p>“Nah, it wasn’t like that. It was childish antics. I’m more concerned that he’s too bloody normal if you ask me.”</p><p>“But, my heavenly influences are balancing--”</p><p>“I’m taking your ‘heavenly influences’ into account. By now he should be trying to warp the world around him to his own desires, shaping it in his own image, that kind of stuff. Well, not actually <em>trying</em>. He’ll do it without even knowing it. Have you seen any evidence of that happening?”</p><p>“Well… no I haven’t if I’m honest.”</p><p>“And you should be honest. You are an angel.”</p><p>They lapsed into a thoughtful silence.  </p><p>“Speaking of angels,” Crowley began while starting to smirk. “What do you reckon old Gabriel would have made of Warlock’s performance?”</p><p>Aziraphale himself began to smirk.</p><p>“I’m not sure it would have been his cup of tea…”</p><p>They looked at each other, then both instantaneously burst into fits of laughter.</p><p>“Oh, Crowley, I wish you had been there to see the real speech,” Aziraphale giggled. “He got rather annoyed when the shepherds tried to herd him away from their flock, brandishing their crooks as they did so! And, they wouldn’t believe a word he was saying. I had to step in to help. He got very cross, I can tell you.”</p><p>“Oh I bet he did,” Crowley snorted.</p><p>“And!” Aziraphale added excitedly. “Did you know that the three kings were supposed to arrive a lot sooner than they did. Gabriel led them in the wrong direction!”</p><p>“Lucky you were there, angel.”</p><p>“It really was!”</p><p>After a few more bouts of laughter, Aziraphale asked:</p><p>“Were you around for the birth at all? I don’t believe I’ve ever asked you.”</p><p>“Oh I was. I got the last room at the inn.”</p><p>“That was you!”</p><p>“Yeah. Downstairs were very happy. Until it turned out that actually giving birth in that manger was better. More picturesque. Not sure you would have fitted those wise men, their gifts, shepherds and all their sheep into that room. Wasn’t particularly big. Still, I got a nice view from my window.”    </p><p>Aziraphale shook his head in disbelief and helped himself to a mince pie.</p><p>“I don’t think I’ve ever asked <em>you </em>this, but do you know how the conversation between Gabriel and Mary went down? You know, the one where he told her she was pregnant despite being a virgin?”</p><p>Aziraphale gave a slight cough at the question and almost chocked on his mince pie.</p><p>“Yes… ahem… I was present for that.”</p><p>“And? How did it go?” Crowley pressed.</p><p>“Well, um, of course naturally poor Mary was frightened and confused over this news, and naturally asked how it was possible since she had never… lain with a man.”</p><p>“A fair question.”</p><p>“Absolutely! However, Gabriel was also confused by why<em> she</em> was confused… and… did not completely understand why… lying with a man had anything to do with becoming… pregnant.”</p><p>“Did… did you have to give the Archangel Gabriel… the talk?!” Crowley asked grinning broadly.</p><p>“Well… yes.”</p><p>“Ha!”</p><p>“I pulled him to one side and quickly explained it to him the… ins and outs… as it were.”</p><p>Because of the awkward nature of this conversation, Aziraphale hastily stuffed some more mince pie into his mouth. Crowley, on the other hand, was happy to wait until he had finished before continuing. Eager to hear more.</p><p>“Did he understand a bit better after that?”</p><p>“He quite frankly looked rather disgusted. Then shook his head and said: ‘Not my department.’ Then turned back to Mary and told her to look a little more excited and to trust in The Almighty’s plan. Then he vanished.”</p><p>“He just buggered off?”</p><p>“Quite! So I was left to console to the poor woman.”</p><p>Crowley shook his head in disbelief and took another gulp of his mulled wine. This avenue of conversation was giving the demon an opening to ask a question he’d never asked his best friend before. A very personal one.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>It’s not like we ever really discuss this kind of thing! </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Crowley took another gulp, and then downed the contents to help with the sensation of small butterflies fluttering around in his stomach.</p><p>“Do… uh… you know much about… the ins and… I mean, have you… ever… experienced--”</p><p>“So what else has the child been up to?” Aziraphale asked so quickly that the words hardly had time to leave his mouth. He hastily lifted his notebook to his face, pretending to be absorbed in finding something in it. If the demon had been capable of seeing through the notebook, he would have noticed that the angel’s face was becoming rapidly pink.</p><p>“Right, yeah! Um… his bad deeds.”</p><p>Crowley also hid behind his notebook, cursing his curiosity.</p><p>After a slightly uncomfortable pause and some frantic flipping of pages, they both continued with their meeting. It transpired that Warlock’s other good deeds involved baking Christmas cookies with his mother; “which were not bad at all,” Aziraphale declared. He may not have gotten a card, but he would gladly settle for a ginger and cinnamon biscuit. Or two. It had been a lovely bonding session between boy and mother, which had made Mrs Dowling very happy.</p><p>Mr Dowling on the other hand had not had such a pleasant experience with his son. Warlock’s other bad deed had been to make his father jump by firing his nerf gun while he’d been holding a very expensive bottle of brandy, which of course smashed. What made the matter even worse was that Mr Dowling had just so happened to have been entertaining the president at the time.</p><p>After they had discussed Warlock’s antics further, and Aziraphale had helped himself to a couple more mince pies, the angel looked at his pocket watch to check on the time.</p><p>“Oh dear! I better get going Crowley. The shop will be closing early! It is Christmas Eve after all.”</p><p>“No need to fret angel. I’ll drive you.”</p><p>Not that he wanted to admit it to himself, but Crowley was not quite ready for their Christmas Eve together to be over just yet.</p><p>“Oh, really? Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to put you out!”</p><p>“Go and fetch your coat and bobble hat and meet me by the car.”</p><p>Crowley finished his third glass of mulled wine and stood up to retrieve his scarf and gloves.</p><p>“Why thank you. That is very kind.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, it’s just because it’s Christmas so don’t get used to it.”</p><p>Aziraphale chuckled good naturedly then frowned slightly.</p><p>“Are you sure you’re in a fit state to drive. You didn’t have a mince pie to soak up the alcohol you just consumed.”</p><p>A small smile flickered around the corner of Aziraphale’s mouth as he said this. Crowley sighed rather dramatically, but relented and miracled the alcohol from his system.</p><p>“Happy now?”</p><p>“Extremely. Right, I’ll just be two minutes.”</p><p>“You happy going in the Bentley? Or would you rather I rounded up some reindeer and we went by sleigh?”</p><p>Crowley grinned cheekily at Aziraphale who turned to scowl back at him.</p><p>“You are never going to let this go are you?”</p><p>“Nope.”</p><p>It was Aziraphale’s turn to sigh.</p><p>“Two minutes.”</p><p>As the angel rushed off to get ready for their trip, the demon headed towards his car, humming the tune to “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” as he went.  </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Hope you're all keeping safe x</p></blockquote></div></div>
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